


Nothing

by mansikka



Series: Wings [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-19 19:19:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5978260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mansikka/pseuds/mansikka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am nothing, Dean. Nothing.”</p><p>The pitiful sob that follows Cas’ words strike sharp at Dean’s heart. He pulls him tight, gripping onto him in a way that’s meant to reassure him and keep him whole. Cas clings back, shaking and crying into his shoulder, hiccuping, and messy, and completely devastated.</p><p>“I am nothing.” he repeats, and it comes out choked.</p><p>“Hey,” Dean says anxiously, squeezing him a little tighter. “You’re not nothing, Cas, okay? Not nothing. Least of all to me,” and he follows that up with a kiss to wherever he can get to which isn’t much. Cas holds on to him like he’s a lifeline.</p><p>“Nothing,” he repeats, defeated, pressing his nose into Dean’s neck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

“I am  _ nothing _ , Dean.  _ Nothing _ .”

The pitiful sob that follows Cas’ words strike sharp at Dean’s heart. He pulls him tight, gripping onto him in a way that’s meant to reassure him and keep him whole. Cas clings back, shaking and crying into his shoulder, hiccuping, and messy, and completely devastated.

“I am  _ nothing _ .” he repeats, and it comes out choked.

“Hey,” Dean says anxiously, squeezing him a little tighter. “You’re not  _ nothing _ , Cas, okay? Not nothing. Least of all to me,” and he follows that up with a kiss to wherever he can get to which isn’t much. Cas holds on to him like he’s a lifeline.

“Nothing,” he repeats, defeated, pressing his nose into Dean’s neck.

What he means by  _ nothing _ , is no longer angel. His grace has gone, he can’t pick up ‘angel radio’ anymore, and he’s very much alone in this vessel that is now his body and his alone. His very  _ human  _ body.

The last few days have all become a bit of a blur. Dean sees them now in a series of flashbacks; Cas protecting them. He and Sam fighting against something bigger than they could handle. Wrath, and anger, and so much fear that there had been a moment when he thought he was going to lose Cas for good.

Then Cas had made the ultimate sacrifice, giving up his grace to keep both Dean and Cas safe. And whilst Dean knew that Cas would likely do it over again, the weeping, broken weight in his arms told him that it was more than Cas was ready to handle.

“You’re not  _ nothing _ , Cas, okay? Yeah, so you’re human now. You don’t go around calling me and Sam nothing, do you?”

“It’s different,” Cas insists, unable to look up at him.

“How? Because you lost your powers?” Dean knows it’s a much bigger deal than that, of course he does. But he’s stuck on what to do, and scrabbling for whatever words come into his head.

“It is not about power, Dean. It is about losing who I am,”

Dean shakes his head, still pressing in his kisses. “You haven’t lost who you are, Cas. You haven’t, I promise. It’s still you in there,” he says, still trying to press kisses where he can.

“What will I do?” Cas asks, and it comes out shaky.

Dean grips a little tighter. “Hunt, like me and Sam. Or not, not if you don’t want to. We don’t have to figure things out rightaway, Cas.”

“But I’m  _ dying _ , Dean.”

And that pulls Dean up a little short. Because of course Cas would see it like that, when he’s lived so long that the thought of a relatively short human existence is something akin to a death sentence.

“Yeah, Cas. But we’re all dying, if you look at it like that.”

Cas just shakes his head, still crying into him.

“Hey,” Dean tries, pleading for some kind of breakthrough. “You’ve got me. You’ve got Sam. You’ve got a home. None of this is gonna be easy, but you’ve got us to help you through it, okay?”

“I am of no use to you now,” Cas mumbles, and Dean’s heart breaks all over again.

“Of course you’re of  _ use  _ to me, Cas. You think the only reason I want you around is for what you can do for me? Sucks if you think that, man. You’re  _ mine _ , Cas. Only reason I want you around is ‘cos I want  _ you _ . As you are. However you are,”

For no one else but Cas can Dean be so open, and honest. And his words are enough to make Cas grow a little quiet, pull back a little and look up at him tearily.

“Not nothing, Cas,” Dean repeats when he’s able to see him, surging forward and kissing him desperately, trying to make him understand.

“Not nothing, Cas. Everything. Everything to  _ me _ . You know that, right?”

For a moment Dean thinks he’s got through to him. But Cas’ eyes grow frantic, and he starts looking left and right as though he’s lost something. He pulls out of Dean’s grasp with a look of horror on his face, rolling his shoulders and trying to reach back between his shoulder blades.

Dean’s breath catches; he knows that Cas is looking for his wings.

“They’re  _ gone _ , Dean,” he says, desperately, as though it has only just occurred to him that along with everything else angel-related they would be gone too.

“Yeah, Cas. And I’m real sorry about that. You know I loved them, right?” Dean hesitantly reaches a hand out to curl under Cas’ elbow, to try and get him to step back towards him.

“I’m  _ nothing _ ,” he repeats again, and Dean is gathering him up the second he sees tears welling in his eyes.

“Stop saying that, Cas. Gonna make me start thinking you don’t want me anymore,” he says, partly because he wants to shock some reality back into Cas, and partly because he means it. Now Cas is human, he’s free, to go and be whatever he wants, and be with whoever he wants. He doesn’t have to stay with Dean if he doesn’t want to, and that thought actually terrifies him more than he can say out loud.

He’s never really thought about the chance of Cas leaving him. Not because he’s blind enough to think Cas wouldn’t want something better than himself; of course he could see that. But lately they’ve become so entwined that he can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without him, and the thought that Cas might choose to leave him now fills him with almost paralysing fear.

Cas must feel his heart pounding out frantically, because he withdraws from where he’s been hiding his face and looks up at Dean full of curiosity. Dean’s face has become a mask; he’s trying to keep this together to help Cas, not actually looking to seek any reassurance for himself. Not that he wouldn’t love that right about now.

“Dean?” Cas asks, bringing up a hand to rest against Dean’s chest over his heart, and his eyes leaping back up to Dean’s face when he feels the pounding there.

“It’s fine, Cas. I just need you to understand. You’re  _ not _ nothing. Not to me,” and as Dean is saying those words, what Cas is actually hearing, beyond his own reassurance, is  _ don’t leave me _ .

Like he ever could.

Cas lets out a little gasp in shock, and before Dean knows what’s happening Cas is kissing him with a ferocity that makes him stumble back.

“Dean,” he breathes, staring at him in wonder. “I did not mean that…” and he’s clearly struggling for the right words to say now, but instead just surges forward and kisses him again.

Dean’s not complaining. He’s kissing back just as hard.

There’s a brief moment where they stop and stare, and then they’re grabbing at each other. Rough lips, and rougher fingers, pulling at clothes, desperate for closeness. Cas has Dean’s shirt shrugged off in an instant, and his hands slide up under his t-shirt lifting it clear and over his head in one single move.

Dean follows him, hands slipping down and fingers pressing in to the gap under Cas’ long t-shirt - technically  _ his  _ long t-shirt, trailing his fingers all the way back up his chest under there and pulling it over his head as gently as he can.

His fingers are immediately to Cas’ belt buckle, and it’s open, and Cas’ fly, in an instant, with Dean pushing his jeans and his boxers down in one go. He holds out his arms for Cas to balance himself so he can shrug out of them altogether and as he bends to take off his socks.

When Cas straightens back up he presses himself fully against Dean, hands skirting up and down Dean’s back as though the touch of his skin is never going to be enough. And then his fingers are at Dean’s fly, pressing a thumb down his length and smiling into the gasped kiss Dean gives him, unzipping and sliding everything down for Dean to step out of himself.

Cas begins backing towards the bed, but Dean stops him, holding him gently by the wrists to keep him in place. And he’s lifting his arms, trailing kisses along each of them in turn, bending to bite down lightly on each nipple while his hands slide to his ass and hold Cas against him.

Dean kisses a shoulder, holding Cas in place as he walks around to his back, hands looping around him so he can hug him from behind. His lips find that spot between his shoulder blades where Cas’ wings once protruded, and Dean kisses him there, over and over, with such tenderness that Cas’ head drops forward and he lets out a shaky breath.

“I told you, Cas. I love you,” he whispers against his skin, sighing as he feels Cas’ hands skirt up to cover his arms. “I love all of you,” he adds, nuzzling him a little in the same place, before resting his cheek against his shoulder and holding him close.

Cas leans back against him, and the tension that held him before has now evaporated, leaving him pliable beneath Dean’s hands. But he wants more, and he needs to give something back, and so he’s turning in Dean’s arms and kissing him again.

“I need you, Dean,” he whispers, guiding them back towards the bed, which they scramble over with ungraceful hurrying, anxious to be in each other’s arms once again. Cas slides his hands down Dean’s thighs, gently parting them, and slotting himself in between. He rolls against Dean; they’re already hard, so the lightest trapping of their cocks together between their stomachs is more than enough to have them both moaning out.

Cas’s hands are framing Dean’s face against the bed, his fingers curling in so that they can brush against Dean’s hair. Dean’s hands slide down Cas’ back, covering every inch of skin there, before resting on his ass and holding him in place so he can rut up against him.

Cas kisses his way down Dean’s chest, pausing only briefly to suck the tip of his head into his mouth and swirl his tongue over it. And then he’s moving down, parting Dean’s legs a little further before pressing him open and licking his way in. Dean curses, as he always does when Cas does this to him, fighting against the urge to thrust up against Cas’ mouth.

Cas is relentless but slow, opening him up thoroughly with his tongue. He’s soon sliding a finger in, and another, scissoring him open gently and licking in the gap between his fingers because he knows how much Dean loves that. Then he’s curling his fingers up inside him, smiling and pressing kisses into Dean’s thigh as Dean moans out his name.

“Please, Cas,” Dean gasps out, and Cas is on the move again. Gentle thumbs hold Dean open, and he presses himself forward, slowly sliding in, holding Dean’s gaze as he does. Dean sighs out as Cas fills him whole, and it sounds to Cas’ ear like relief. He leans forward, hands sneaking up under Dean’s shoulders and keeping perfectly still, touching as much of him at once as he possibly can.

His pace is gentle, more about keeping up that constant contact than the need for anything to be concluded. If he’s muttering endearments into Dean’s lips, and ear, and neck, it’s nothing that Dean doesn’t want to hear, and doesn’t mumble back his own response to.

It is sometime later when they’re spent, and breathless, and curled into one another, that Cas remembers he has some more things he needs to say.

“I love you too, Dean,” he says softly, smiling at the blush that fills Dean’s face. He rewards him with a kiss.

“I have a question,” Cas adds, frowning a little, and enough to make Dean shuffle him that little bit closer.

“Tell me,”

“You said. That this. The bunker. Was my home now.” Cas’ tone speaks of nothing but uncertainty, and Dean feels a little sad that he even needs to give him such confirmation.

“‘course, Cas. Always was.”

Cas smiles briefly, but there’s still a little doubt behind his eyes.

“What?” Dean asks, pressing a kiss against his cheek.

“Where do I sleep? Now that I must sleep?”

Dean gathers him closer still at his question, hearing the loss that’s there in his words.

“Here. With me,” he says, smiling at the way Cas huffs out a little in relief.

“You do not object to me sleeping in your room?”

“Now that,” Dean says, interrupting himself by kissing Cas, “Has got to be the dumbest question you’ve ever asked me.”

That Cas’ face cracks into the biggest smile Dean’s seen in a while, telling him he’s said exactly what Cas needed to hear.

“‘sides. It’s not  _ my _ room, Cas. It’s  _ our _ room.”

Cas’ eyes go a little wide. “...it is?”

“Yeah, Cas. It is. Best get you some stuff to clutter it up with, right? Can’t just be mine all over the place.”

Cas likes this idea very much indeed, and he thanks Dean the only way he knows how.

  
  
  



End file.
